


I Put a Spell On You

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Halloween, Lance owns a magic shop, Lighthearted and cute, M/M, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Witch Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 08:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16471955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Lance is a witch closing up shop on Halloween night when a stranger comes into his shop looking for him...All the Witch Lance and Werewolf Keith art is just too damn cute and I wrote something.





	I Put a Spell On You

**Author's Note:**

> All the Halloween art of these two makes me want to cry so I wrote a short fic about it. Sorry about the awful title.

“Have a Happy Halloween!” Lance calls, as his last customer goes out the door with a cheery jingle.  

 

Slumping against the counter, he sighs, bumping a box of cherry incense off the wood counter. He swings a sparkling finger and the box halts just inches off the ground. It comes up and sets itself neatly back on the incense display. 

 

The magic store always got swamped during Halloween, humans looking for fake blood or other Halloween novelty things (his personal favorite this year were the spooky rubber ducks). Lance didn’t usually have those in store but he loved the campy commercial side of Halloween too and couldn’t help but indulge in it. Otherwise, most humans didn’t even spare his shop a glance the other eleven months out of the year, asking if he opened recently.

 

Naturally, they were a little sheepish when he informed them he’d been in the exact same corner of the street for five years now.

 

It never failed to get a giggle out of Lance. Most of them assumed this place was a novelty store for hippies or a tea shop or one memorable moment when a customer asked if this was a vegan market and if he had any weed. Lance almost busted a gut (as did Veronica who was helping stock). While Lance _did_ sell tea and some of the things here were edible he couldn’t really recommend eating newt or wolfsbane.

 

… Let alone smoking it.

 

They often bought the novelty things Lance stocked for their sake (like the rubber duckies) or harmless little trinkets or herbs. There was one sweet old lady with a crinkly smile and warm eyes that came in every Thursday for fresh lemongrass and lavender. There was a 14-year-old teen going through a goth phase that would frequently look through the pendants and charms on the counter.

 

Lance was responsible about it of course. He never sold humans things that would be dangerous.

 

He was a responsible witch (warlock if you had to be like that), thank you very much.

 

Besides, his real clientele were those like him, creatures of myth and magic that humans could only imagine in their books, stories and a handful of truly terrible media. While he served fellow witches like Pidge and Allura, supplying ingredients for spells and books for research, he also served a whole host of other clients, providing made to order spells, charms and enchantments.

 

For a price, of course.

 

He’d worked for banshees, druids, nymphs, mermaids and even a golem and he’d done everything from sleeping potions to enchanting a Roomba. Some were frequent customers. Others just happened to stop by. A vampire by the name of Rolo, for example, came in often for vials of blood (ethically sourced!) and would flirt with Lance the whole time.

 

So yeah. A witch. On Halloween. This was his night and he couldn’t wait to close up shop and enjoy it.

 

He checks his phone and grins, bouncing on his heels. Finally. Ten minutes till seven and then he can close up shop and head upstairs to his apartment and get ready for the bomb-ass Halloween party at Allura’s.

 

Then he can let loose, dance and maybe find someone cute to make out with or something.

 

Lance hums happily. Actually… why wait? This was his store. He was his own boss!

 

Skipping around the counter he goes to flip the open sign to closed when suddenly someone in a dark red hoodie is pushing their way in.

 

“Oh,” Lance says, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. So much for closing early.  “Welcome! Can I help you find anything?”

 

There is pause for a moment and then…

 

“… This place smells bad,” the man says, shoulders hunched and hands shoved in his pockets. Lance hears him sniff and he goes still. “And you smell weird.”

 

“Excuse me?” Lance exclaims, blue eyes going wide. The store naturally smelled heavily of herbs and the old dusty wood and brick building was coming up on 70 years old but that was no reason to insult him or his store!

 

He scrutinizes the man. Lance can only make out a tuft of thick black hair and a pale chin, his upper face and eyes shadowed under the bangs and hood. The man shuffles, turning his head this way and that and clears his throat.

 

“S-sorry,” he mutters. “Actually, I’m look-“

 

The man almost jumps right out his skin, hands flying out of his pockets when the door opens with a chime and another customer walks in. Geez suddenly his store is busy.

 

“Welcome!” Lance says, looking around red hood man. “Can I help you find something?

 

“Nah, I’m good,” the bald man says with a big toothy grin before vanishing behind the shelves of cauldrons and cheap plastic Jack-O-Lanterns.

 

“Sorry about that,” Lance says, looking back at his hooded customer with his best service smile. “What can I help you look for?” He’s shoved his hands back into his baggy hoodie and Lance can make out clenched teeth.

 

“Nothing,” he says gruffly, almost a growl. “Just… browsing.” He shoulder’s past Lance (rude!), head still down, and wanders off towards the glass jars of herbs and powders on the wall.

 

“Ok, well I close soon… so browse quickly.” Lance frowns as the guy ignores him, staring at a jar of wolfsbane. He’s used to weird clients of course but there was weird and there was… shifty. This guy looked like he was wanted something… or was hiding something. Plus, the jerk insulted his shop and him! His little shop smells lovely and he… Lance sniffs his sleeve… well he smells like his store. Like flowers and spells.

 

Like mom’s workshop used to when he was a kid. It was nice not… weird.

 

Wandering off back to the counter, he keeps an eye on the red hood, idly tidying the already pristine counter and counting down the minutes on the clock.

 

He just wanted to get to the party. His apartment was right upstairs on the second floor, his sexy witch costume laid out on his bed (he lost a bet with Pidge but at least he wasn’t going as sexy Shrek like Hunk was and the fishnets _did_ make his legs look amazing) and Lance was close to just booting his customers out the door.

 

“Hey!”

 

Speaking of… Lance jumps out of his thoughts, the bald man leaning on the counter and staring at him with a… weird look. Kind of jumpy looking, like he’s ready to take off any moment.

 

“Yes, can I help you find something?” Lance says, noting the guy doesn’t actually have anything in hand, his other hand shoved in his jacket pocket.

 

“Yeah.” And suddenly Lance has the barrel of a gun pointed right between his eyes. “Everything in your register.”

 

Lance glares. This man has the audacity to point a gun at _him_. It would be hilarious if Lance didn’t have a party to get to and this man was ruining his Halloween. He didn’t want to deal with this bullshit.

 

“The register, dipshit!” The thief snaps. Lance is about to take care of this, ready to fling him out the door like trash with a flick of the finger, already recalling the steps for a wind wipe spell if rude hoodie guys saw and-

 

But before Lance can even wiggle his finger there is a red blur and the gun between his eyes is gone. Blue eyes go wide in shock.

 

The thief is dangling off the ground, face a tomato red and gaping in shock and horror as red hoodie guy snarls and holds him up by his neck with big clawed hands.

 

Claws.

 

Oh.

 

The red hood was thrown back in that blur of movement, revealing long thick black hair and big pointed furry ears where there should be normal rounded ones. Massive fangs, longer than Lance’s thumb jut out of his mouth, too big for a human mouth. The rumbling growl is like the bass of a speaker, vibrating through Lance as it suddenly clicks.

 

Duh. Werewolf.

 

“I’m going to let you go,” the werewolf growls, voice thick around that maw of teeth crowding his lips. “And you’re going to leave. If you try anything funny…” Lance watches as the clawed hand clenches tighter around the neck, the man’s face going purple. “I will tear out your windpipe with my claws.”

 

The guys gives a jerky nod and the wolf drops the man like a wet bag of trash.

 

Lance watches his attempted robber flee out the door in fear (probably pissing himself) his own mouth agape in stupefied shock. Slowly, he slides his gaze to the werewolf.

 

With the hood off, Lance can see a pair of bright feverish yellow eyes, glowing in the low light of the store and a scar slashed across a strong jaw and up his pale cheek. He’s standing straight, broad shoulders squared and god he’s huge! He isn’t sure if he’s actually bigger or if the baggy hoodie and slouch just made him seem so much smaller… which maybe was the point.

 

And he’s staring right at Lance.

 

“Th-thanks,” Lance says warily. He’d only met a handful of werewolves before, most of them preferring to keep to their packs and territory. But judging from the heaving chest, manic eyes and the bone-crushing fangs cutting into black lined lips, Lance was standing in a tiny store with a partially shifted werewolf about to lose his shit.

 

Oh shit. He was uh…. _Less_ confident taking on an out of control werewolf than a robber. He wiggles his fingers, feeling the tingle of magic at their blue tips. Werewolves were particularly resilient when it came to magic and spells.

 

The werewolf takes a step closer to the counter and Lance slides a foot back, and the wolf tracks it, those glowing eyes burning right through him.

 

“Please don’t run,” the wolf says suddenly, in a growl, leaning heavily on the counter, head hanging low. “J-just give me a minute.”

 

He looks like he just finished a marathon with the way he’s gasping and shuddering. Lance finds himself a little concerned now but watches in awe as the fuzzy ears turn to human ones and the claws at his tips retreat.

 

There is a brief awkward moment of silence and then the dark head of hair is snapping up.

 

Oh. Fuck his bi-ass this werewolf was hot.

 

Purple feverish eyes look up at Lance, somewhat glazed over and still tinged yellow. The terrifying teeth are gone but Lance can still see some very sharp canines.  

 

“Thank you for not running,” he sighs, giving a wan crooked smile that Lance absolutely didn’t want to try kissing. “Right now, I’m not sure if I could stop myself from giving chase.”

 

“You’re… welcome?” Lance says carefully, warmth flushing his cheeks. “I appreciate the help in running off my robber.”

 

Dark eyebrows furrow at that and wow there’s another growl. “Anytime. I hate shitheads like that. I really would have-” He stops and inhales. He breathes out. “Never mind.”

 

Lance frowns. Despite shifting back to normal he still looks… shaky. There is sweat at his temples and he’s fidgety and those eyes…. It feels like the wolf is just lurking below the surface there, waiting for a chance to come out.

 

“You’re Lance McClain, right? A witch from the Cisneros family?”

 

Lance’s eyes go wide at that. “Yes, on my mom’s side. How did-“

 

“Another werewolf referred me to you,” Keith says eyes darting around the store. “Said he knew you. I’m uh… I’m new to…” He gestures at himself. “This.” He rubs at the back of his neck.

 

Lance’s eyes go wide. “You were turned?” That was unheard of in this day and age. Biting a human meant death for most wolves. The risk of being exposed was too high.

 

“Yeah. Got in a fight with some guy outside a bar. It was fine till he went berserk and took a chunk out of my arm and clawed my face.” He sighs, pretty purple eyes staring hard at the incense on the counter, nose wrinkling. “I didn’t even know werewolves were a thing till then.”

 

Lance feels his heart go out to this poor guy, feeling guilty for being so suspicious of him. He walks around the counter. He faces the werewolf seriously. “I don’t know who recommended you but I can’t cure the bite. It’s impossible.”

 

He blinks down at Lance, scratching at his scar on his cheek. “Shiro recommended you and yeah I’ve been told that… but as you might see I’m having some issues with control. So, I thought maybe you would have something that would help? Like… restraints maybe?”  

 

“Ohh you’re going straight for the restraints?” Lance grins. And when faced with a cute guy he really just can’t help himself. He has to flirt. “Kinky~”

 

The werewolf goes red, flushing right up to his now slightly pointed ears, almost recoiling in shock. I

 

“I-I uh…” He stammers, eyebrows doing a funny little dance on his forehead and god despite being a carnivorous potential man-eater he’s _adorable_.  

 

“Relax,” he laughs with a wink. “I’m just pulling your leg. It’s just that restraints would be more of a last resort. A wolfsbane potion should be a good short term solution until you can get things under control.”

 

“Really?” Mullet man relaxes a bit, sighing in relief.

 

“It would at least be what we should start with,” Lance says, walking to the door and flipping the sign to closed. He locks the shop up, flicks off the front lights and turns back towards his customer. “It won’t take long. I whip one up now if you don’t mind waiting.”

 

“That would be great,“ he sighs tense shoulders slumping in relief, and Lance can tell this whole werewolf thing has been weighing on this man for some time, a nervous anxiety about his changes. “How much-“

 

Lance shakes his head. “On the house. Think of it as thanks for rescuing me. My dashing hero.” This was the least he could do for him. He’ll just have to be fashionably late for the party. Allura would understand.

 

The werewolf just blinks at him, looking as though Lance declared he was giving him a million dollars and couldn’t believe it.

 

He grins ( _maybe_ flutters his lashes a bit) and heads for the stairs leading up to his loft but a big hand stops him, and pulls him against a firm chest. Lance’s heart leaps in into his throat in a mix of surprise and excitement.

 

“Sorry I said you smelled weird before,” the werewolf whispers, voice low and breath hot ghosting over Lance’s ear. Lance swallows a pleased sigh. “You have a scent I’ve never smelled before but it actually is kind of…” Lance hears the wolf inhale, a low rumble following after it. “…Nice.”  

 

Lance shivers, the heat of the hand on his shoulder clearly felt even through his shirt, heart pounding in his ears. His feels light and floaty, like a bubble, and if he isn’t careful his magic will actually have him floating away.

 

“Hey uh… what’s your name?” Lance says, licking his lips as the hand slowly slides up his shoulder, a thumb just barely glancing against the exposed brown skin beyond his collar.

 

“Keith,” he says softly, voice reverent and somewhat absent, as if he’s caught up in his own actions.

 

“Keith… So uh… this might sound weird but there is a party I’m headed to. Nothing crazy. If you’re free after this would you want to be my-“

 

“Date?” Keith finishes. Lance nods eagerly, a tingling blush on his cheeks and he glances up. The glow in his eyes is back, a little more yellow, but he looks to be in control, a sharp little smile on his face. “Sure. Think of it as thanks for the potion.”

 

Lance huffs, puffing out his cheeks in a pout that is ruined by the coy smile trying to spread across his face. “Well, that’s not fair. I’m already paying you back for saving my income for the day. Now we’ll be uneven.”

 

“I think we both know you could have dealt with him,” Keith chuckles, thumb rubbing against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. “Besides… you’ll have to just make it even next time.”


End file.
